Sunday, October 19, 2014

Bracing Himself For The Worst


Nightgems of the Dragon's Jewels

An Epic in the Modern Style
by Ran Screaming.

He'd often thought back to that moment.

Gripping his poignard, brandishing his sword, tugging his forelock, cleaving his gaze unto her own, he'd entered the nunnery, bracing himself for the worst.

"Halt!" he'd whispered, savagely.

She'd blushed.

"Sir, why do you unhinge the dignity of this night by intruding upon our personage?"

He'd stared back at her, unmanned, unable to reply, silent, at a loss for words.

"And furtherto, what is more," she'd husked, sulkily, "Wherefore the sword, the poignard, the tugging of the forelock, the quiet savagery?"

He'd spat. "It is Doom, your Ladyship. It is Doom and the utter Violation of All that Space and Time have been to us."

She'd wondered at his words, pondering, questioningly staring, beseechingly querying within her mind thoughts that'd been hard to express in otherwise vocal terminology accessible to one of such low status as he.

"Pray forgive my brief and momentary silence," she'd apologized contritely, "but far afield had been my thoughts. You did, I trust, mention a certain Doom?"

He'd rolled his eyes at that, scratching at his armpits, clutching at his harness and heaving up his sagging breeches in a tardy display of hardy manly modesty.

"My Ladyship," he'd gasped, "It is thus. Word has come of the Trilogy. Three Books shall not suffice. The Gods and Great Ones of Earth and Air and Sea and Crystal and Dragon's Ichor have fore-ordained, that just as the Scene before us attends to its Terminus, then indeed shall the Blood be pouring."

The spear'd pierced her neck. She'd crumpled. The blood'd run red upon the tesserae.
He'd barfed.


Volume Four of the Dragon Sigils of Unicorn Dreams Trilogy Series Five, by Ran Screaming:

The Frozening is Coming

Now a TV series and an iPod app!

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